For many, particularly the freshman and sophomores who were denied the opportunity to participate in this uniquely Cincinnatian event, there is justifiable cause for excitement. Everyone watches the Opening Day parade, it's essentially a local holiday. It's quite possibly the most notable parade that these students will march in their entire career. Parents will take off work and pictures will grace the feeds of every social media platform. There is an element of pride in being one of the few bands selected to be in the event, and even more so in the fact that this is not the first, but rather, the fourth time that Batavia High School will make the trip to Findlay Market to participate.
That being said, he only group of students that have successfully participated in all four parades is the current senior class. Being given the opportunity to march 8th grade year in the height of the awkward transition from "big kid" to what would become "young adult", the idea of doing an official marching band function with the official marching band was nothing to shrug at. It was a momentous occasion. It was the first test for those who were desperate to join the ranks after years of gawking at the flashy green uniforms and loud sound. The parade was a whirlwind of thrills, from being thrown into the block formation in front of thousands, to knowing that the event was televised. For us rookies it was a moment to remember with gratification.
The excitement continued into the next year, when the now new freshmen once again marched the streets of downtown Cincinnati. The music was upbeat, and the morale was high. Plus, we got out of school for the day, what's better than that? Nevermind the legs and shoulders that were severely sore afterwards, as muscles that hadn't been used in months were once again awakened. Overall, though, the overwhelming enthusiasm and anticipation offered a significant distraction from an otherwise miserable physical sentiment.
Sophomore year signaled the turning point in feelings for this parade that was said to be a monumental achievement for our kind of band. Now, as third time parade marchers, the excitement dwindled. It was very much "been there, done that". No one was overly excited to go out and march after months of not marching, and no one was quite ready for the perfectionist based stress that comes with being part of a band to increase. Nevertheless, we went out and performed enthusiastically, happy to see the sights on the first day back from spring break rather than suffer in the confines of the high school. We tried our best to ignore the sweltering heat and the desperate need for ice packs and ace bandages as we all but dragged ourselves to the equally stuffy buses waiting to bring us home.
Transitioning ahead two years, here we sit, two weeks away from the fourth and final time participating in the Red's Opening Day chaos. Now, for many, the excitement exists only in the form of a small sliver of pride at doing this rather surreal affair the most times out of any class. The anticipation that distracted us from the grievances that come with the parade has long faded, and now there lies only the difficulties. The practice that is required to get back into form will be trying, the weather will either be uncomfortably cold or uncomfortably hot, the food will be overpriced, the lineups will be unorganized. In actuality, the parade seems like more of a challenge than it's worth.
On top of this comes actually doing the parade in itself. Almost two miles of marching on uneven ground while holding up an instrument in perfect form is not something easily accomplished by those who have not set food on a marching field since November. Already, we feel the tension and complaints from our shoulders, necks, backs, legs, and hips. There is nothing exciting about being in significant pain for the week following due to the sudden strain of unused muscles, or the money being spent on the chiropractic appointments just to prep for the event. The thought of being drenched in sweat and dying of thirst is everything but pleasant, and the possibility of stepping in the unsanitary remnants from floats or carriages that are ahead in the lineup can make anyone cringe.
In retrospect, each time out on the parade route has been, at least in some degree, miserable. The excitement is there, yes, but when one looks past it, the same grievances remain and it's easy to see just how grueling the whole affair actually is. It is an event defined as "once and done", fitting into the category of occasions that only really need to happen one time an one time only. For the first timers, hopefully they will embrace blissful ignorance, energized by the dramatics of it all, and will be able to look past the physical and mental state of extensive displeasure that will come afterwards, when they rub charlie horses from their calves and ice their throbbing shoulders. For us veterans, we can only prepare the best we can in hopes that the consequences of suddenly jumping in for the longest parade of the season will not last a full week and hinder us from the school work that demands a functioning brain.
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